Rebuilding Normalcy
by Macarooni
Summary: Yoruichi apologizes. Oneshot.


A/N: New fic up! This one has a semi-happy ending. Non-pairing, just a ton of character analysis.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

* * *

She pads silently along the windowsill, one step in front of the other until she reaches view of his room. It's quiet outside:the moon shines dully over Sereitei, obscured partially by clouds and the thick tension of the aftermath of a betrayal.

Yoruichi almost laughs. It's been over a century now and the Sereitei she knew is distant, almost gone; only superficial similarities remained. Now, those are swept away too, by the defection of three captains, effectively crippling almost one-fourth of the legendary Gotei-13 – but, she thinks, the damage done to the squads pales in comparison to the emotional scarring inflicted on certain high-ranking members who witnessed the treacherous act.

Unbidden, images of dark brown hair tied in a bun and big, round eyes rise to her mind, accompanied by thoughts of piercing blue ones and the swish of strawberry-blond hair, but Yoruichi shakes them free, annoyed. It was not her place to worry about lieutenants she barely knew; her focus now was on the man (the boy, he would forever be a boy, young and angry and careless in her mind) lying prone on the hospital bed, breathing deeply and unaware of her presence.

She hadn't wanted to meet Byakuya the way she did. Jumping to the rescue of some young, idiot ryoka (although she knew Ichigo was much more than that – he had defeated Byakuya, after all) and promising to make the mere teenage human strong enough to defeat the centuries-old noble – hadn't Byakuya had enough of his dignity crushed by the orchestration of Rukia's death? To insult a member of the Kuchiki House so after meeting for the first time since her escape from Soul Society was a cardinal sin – and Yoruichi knew noble pride better than anyone else.

Something in the feline's throat constricts and she growls softly to rid herself of the feeling. No, she will not feel _guilt. Guilt_ is not something _Yoruichi Shinhoin_ experiences; not towards her clan, not towards Soi Fon, not anyone because guilt leads to _regret_ and _God knows_ how debilitating it is to live in the past. No, this is Byakuya she's talking about: Byakuya, who had lost his grandfather and his family's respect and his wife and almost Rukia, who had broken the ideals around which his life was centered for the very emotions he masked so well. Yoruichi's role in his life was – is – infinitesimal by comparison.

No, there would be no guilt.

Said noble shifts in the bed and Yoruichi, startled, jumps off the ledge and pads away.

* * *

She stays in the Soul Society until he recovers.

In other words, guilt is a bitch.

She knows they've all visited him: his red-haired, brash lieutenant, Rukia, even Ichigo. Somehow, though, it didn't seem right for her to barge in like nothing happened, to talk to him as if there wasn't a world separating them now. As much as Yoruichi prides herself in her sense of freedom and rebellious nature, there are some lines she is not willing to cross.

So she waits, waits until he is deemed well enough to walk by Unohana and leaves the infirmary.

She wants him to have the freedom to walk away from her if he wishes.

She catches him in the Kuchiki gardens. The flowers bloom vibrantly this time of year, decorating the edges of his coveted koi pond. He's standing on the bridge, staring out into the waters, and she's stalling behind some trees.

"Come out."

Yoruichi pauses for only the briefest of moments before emerging from the shade.

"Did you require something of me?" His tone is ice, and Yoruichi almost wants to shiver.

"I see that you've recovered well." She keeps her tone light, but it's more difficult than she thought.

"Is that all?"

"I'm glad. I'm glad Rukia's all right, too."

"That is none of your business."

He's still hurting.

"You know, it's not your fault." The words almost tumble out of her; too fast, and she fears she's alienated him beyond reach. "Aizen's plan was disgustingly flawless; anyone knows the word of Central 46 is absolute law. So she doesn't blame you. Rukia, that is. You've more than made up for it by saving her from Ichimaru's sword."

He doesn't reply. Doesn't move, either. His stature is stiff and poised and so very regal that Yoruichi stifles a laugh.

"So your life's almost normal again, huh? After all this drama is over." They both know it's a lie and she winces inwardly at the choice of words. "It's not every day that we get three captains exiled from Gotei-13."

"I remember something similar happening a few hundred years before."

The statement stings her as much as his accusing tone does. Offering up a nonchalant shrug, she retorts back. "At least Kisuke wasn't trying to become a god."

"If you have no further business with me, then I'll be –"

"Wait."

Her hand is on his shoulder before either of them realize it, and he turns around, cold grey eyes glittering at her amber ones like marble pieces. She swallows and focuses on the headpieces in his hair.

"Look, I'm sorry."

For your losses, for everything that's happened to you over the last hundred years. For your grandfather dying, for Hisana's sickness and the Kuchiki family's unyielding pride and apathy, for Hisana's wish for you to find Rukia. For the torture you put yourself through trying to honor your bloodline and your love at the same time; it made it too easy for this attempted execution to happen. For that damned sense of hubris you can never let go of.

For leaving you when everything around you was crumbling apart.

God knows you could have used the regularity of our weekly lessons; you've never admitted it, but they were an anchor in your life as a youth as much as anything else was. And your dream of surpassing me in shunpo – that faded away as well, became a remnant of when life was monotonous yet satisfying, because you had the dreams but did not feel the pressures that came only with achieving them. By comparison, it must have been paradise.

She waits.

Something flickers behind his eyes; for the barest of moments she can almost say he looks surprised. Then his impassive expression is back again, and he nods curtly.

Yoruichi takes her hand off his shoulder, and turns to leave.

"You did well with that ryoka boy. Brat though he may be, you made him stronger."

She freezes, glances back toward him, wide-eyed and a more than a little surprised.

 _Strong enough to defeat me and rescue Rukia,_ is what he means. It's the closest thing to forgiveness Yoruichi will ever receive from him, and she grins.

She'll take what she can get.

"Goodbye, Byakuya. Don't take too much time beating yourself up."

Life will never be the same. The dynamics of the tightrope he walked so finely were now shifting; relationship between brother and sister, captain and lieutenant, duty and personal pride, all to ashes, waiting to be rebuilt.

Don't try too hard to regain regularity, Byakuya. Take what you can get.

She turns fully now, and flash-steps away.

He walks in the opposite direction, towards the Kuchiki Manor, without looking back.


End file.
